Sorry such a long gap between chapter updates...I doubt there's anyone still reading this story...but if you are. Thanks.
Chapter Six
I lead Jack through the corridors, stopping every so often to urge him away from studying the art etched into the walls and statues. His open mouthed expression during the lift ride gave us several glances from the stewards. But I am proud to say, he began to understand, play the part. When a steward opened the door for us, he nodded politely. He leaned in to me just before I left him standing at the top of the Grand Staircase, "I feel like a spy." he confessed.
I smothered a giggle in my glove, I managed to regain my composure and make my way down the stairs. Cal and Rose not in sight, I wandered into the dinning saloon on my own. It was unusual to be unescorted, and I had to say it wasn't comfortable. Making my way around the room without Cal or Father's arms to hold on to was unnerving.
"Care for an escort Miss Hockley?" a faceless tuxedo asked me. I nodded, slipping my arm through his, allowing myself to be led to the table we were dinning at this evening. I sat down carefully in the pulled out chair and waved him away. I was much more comfortable sitting down, less vulnerable.
Soon Cal and Ruth joined me. Rose and Mrs. Brown on Jack's arm. Jack attempted to sit beside Rose, but quickly moved for the chair on my left. I could tell from the expression on his face he was nervous about the silverware, he kept stealing glances at it. Rose swatted me under the table, catching my attention as the waiter finished pouring the champagne and began to serve the foie gras.
"My does he clean up well" she whispered. I smiled, lifting the napkin off the table, placing it on my lap. I couldn't help that I watched Jack throughout dinner, I was nervous, Cal and Ruth looked like they wanted to maim him.
"Mr. Dawson is joining us from third class. He was of some assistance to my fiancé last night." Cal filled, replacing the confused expressions to curious and judgmental ones.
Jack was inspecting the foie gras on his plate when Cal shifted his conversation to him, "This is foie gras. It's goose liver."
Whispering filled the table as furtive glances went Jack's way.
"Where exactly do you live Mr. Dawson?" Ruth inquired.
"Well, right now my address is the RMS Titanic. After that, I'm on God's good humor."
Before I could even touch the foie gras, it was taken away and replaced with a salad. This happened to me every meal. I became so distracted with the conversation or my own thoughts, I completely missed the food. I looked to Jack as he lifted the fish fork, his glance questioning if it was correct. I slowly picked up my salad fork so he could identify it, waving it back and forth slightly. "Miss Hockley, what is the matter?" Colonel Gracie asked from the end of the table. I froze, everyone was looking my direction. I dropped the fork, looking up at the waiter on my right, "It has a spot of something on it"
The women of the table gasped, inspecting their silverware for any visible stains or marks. And that was how I managed to have the entire table's silverware replaced.
